Anticlimax
by avenged
Summary: He knows that he has finally completed his life's work. He knows he should be elated. He should be up on his feet, not here on the bloody ground, not here, bent over his brother's dying body. But now, all he feels is confusion. SasuSaku. HIATUS


**A/N:** So I should be working on _Red Clouds_. I'll be honest: I haven't even started writing the damn thing yet. beats writer's block over the head with a stick

It'll get done. Eventually. In the meantime, I thought I'd start a new 20 chapter ordeal. This…will be interesting because, while I'm doing a cliché "return of Sasuke" plotline, the uniqueness of the story lies in the perspectives from which it is told. Ever wondered how characters other than Sakura and Naruto viewed Sasuke's return? Yeah, me too.

Oh, and just to clarify: everyone is alive in this story. _Everyone_. Well, except Orochimaru. And all of the previous Hokages. And Itachi's only alive for one chapter. But still. I have the power to bend space, time, and the Naruto world. Be afraid. Be very, very afraid.

All chapters are told from the point of view of the character after which they are named.

**Disclaimer:** The day I own Naruto, muskrats will rule the world and humans will interbreed with cockroaches.

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Here and Now

It is freezing.

There are so few leaves on the trees that there is nothing to cushion the noise of brittle branches hitting against one another as the wind whistles through them. Up above, the sky is painted gray, the kind of steel gray that always proceeds a storm. No rain falls. Everything is metal, solid, foreboding.

_It is over,_ the sky tells me. _It is done._

The grass is dry and brown. Far away, the last bits of a dying fire crackle as it eats away hungrily at the underbrush—a jutsu gone wrong.

And then, a strong gust of wind hits, and the flames die down to embers, glowing like hot coals or the red Sharingan eyes above me.

Then the wind stops, and this moment is frozen in time: silence, deathly silence, and it's just the blade, my body, and the _drip, drip, drip_ of my blood.

He starts panting, his breath coming in short, quick spurts as his grip on the sword tightens. With one last burst of hatred, he twists it, widening the wound in my chest.

No pain comes.

I meet his eyes, Sharingan on Sharingan, and his hair flops across his forehead, inky black strands, and I see myself in his features, in his aristocratic jawline, in the subtle lines of a man's face trapped in the body of a sixteen-year-old boy.

_So much alike. Always so much alike._

He knows it. He knows that he has finally done it, finally completed his life's work. He knows he should be elated. He should be up on his feet, not here on the bloody ground, not here, bent over his brother's dying body.

But now, all he feels is confusion.

I can see it in his eyes.

"_If you want to kill me, hate me. Live on in shame."_

Oh, he had. He had lived on, fed on hatred, counted on it to clothe him, to house him, to give him a reason for being.

And now, that hatred is seeping away with the crimson running down the hill.

Now…

My lips part, scarlet droplets staining them, and I speak.

"Now what do you have, Sasuke?"

He does not shake. He does not move at all. Slowly, ever so slowly, he shakes his head.

"This, Itachi," he says. "This moment. Here, everything I have ever wanted…has been given to me on a silver platter."

"And when this moment is over," I sputter, coughing violently, "what will you do then?"

And his silence is the loudest thing I've ever heard.

Even now, even with it all ending, even now, he doesn't understand.

He never will understand.

What I have given him…is a new beginning. A leaf turned over. A chance to, if he so desires, to wash himself clean of sin and arise as a new man, with a man's body, and to no longer live imprisoned like a child within.

But he sees none of this. Even with those eyes, he sees nothing.

With a grunt, he removes his sword from my heart.

"You never die," he whispers, "if you leave a piece of yourself behind."

He lays the sword on the grass next to me and begins the hand seals. The wind tosses his hair, his cape, dries the blood caked on his cheek. He stands tall, menacing. There is a metal glint to his eyes—cold, unfeeling.

Beyond the reach of human touch.

"When I am done with you, not even ashes will remain."

It is freezing. My body is ice. And despite this, my frostbitten lips curl into a smile.

Destruction.

Chaos.

Death.

It is his legacy. Uchiha Sasuke, the avenger, the snake that lashes out without warning, the man without fear of retribution.

The boy with no name.

The boy defined by that which he burns to the ground.

I smile because, in the end, I have done what no one else has.

I have created a human being.

_Sasuke._

My puppet. My toy. My plaything.

He has never known freedom.

And now, he has his first taste. He coughs—maybe from the blood, or maybe from the bitter flavor of no longer being tied down.

Now, he must make his own way.

Behind his iron gaze, I see the dancing flames of fear.

His hands falter as he forms the last seal, and I see into his heart.

He can't bring himself to do it.

He knows.

And he falls to his knees in the grass, beating his fists again and again against the dirt, snatching up his sword, rising to his feet.

Far, far away, I hear voices.

"_Weak. Pathetic. Failure."_

I hear the gruesome slash of metal against flesh.

"_Never. Never. Never."_

I feel blackness.

"_Never. Never. NEVER."_

I smell blood.

"_Even in DEATH!"_

I taste eternity.

"_Sasuke!"_

A chorus. A thud as the weapon hits the ground. The pitter-patter, pitter-patter of scarlet drops.

A harsh slap across the face.

And before I die, I see scarlet flowing out of his wounds, staining his dark clothes, pooling into little red clouds.

_You never die if you leave a piece of yourself behind._

With my dying breath, I finally accomplish what so many have come before me and tried to do.

In the scars of my little brother, I am immortal.

And as the darkness takes me, I feel no remorse.

Now…it is his turn.

_His_ strength, _his_ power, _his_ time.

From my place in the steel gray sky, I watch.

The story unfolds.

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_Once upon a time…_

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Short? Yes; it's basically an introduction. Confusing? Well…isn't Itachi usually? 

Oh, and speaking of Itachi, he says you should review. Or else.


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